


Gladden These Deep Solitudes

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Series: 500 Milestone Prompts [10]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Geralt doesn't know how to handle kindness, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, even if he doesn't understand them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Summary: When your paths cross one weary winter, you and Geralt share a meal that becomes something much more.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Roach, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: 500 Milestone Prompts [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686445
Kudos: 81





	Gladden These Deep Solitudes

It had been a harsher winter than normal, raging storms and bitter cold ravaging the land, and everyone had felt its effects.

Game was scarce, and Geralt had been on the road for weeks without much luck hunting meals for himself. He was no stranger to doing without, and he'd fortunately stocked up on oats for Roach before departing from the last town. He had to be a bit more sparing than he preferred, but they'd get by until they came to the next town with food and lodging available. They always did.

Geralt patted his mare's neck fondly when she tossed her head with a snort. "I know, old girl. Not much longer and I'll get you taken care of like you deserve." Roach snorted again and pawed at the ground, kicking up a small flurry of snow.

Geralt sighed and was getting ready to move on when he heard it: the quiet crackling of a fire. Going still, Geralt slowly turned in place.

There. Through the underbrush he could just see a fire dancing, small and contained. Not a brush fire, then. Likely someone else foolish enough to be travelling in this weather. Geralt was going to just move on when the breeze shifted, blowing a hint of spice and herbs his way, as well as a mellow scent uncomplicated by perfumes or fancy oils, simple and clean like a valley fresh after a rainfall. It stopped Geralt in his tracks, the promised warmth calling out to his cold and weary bones.

He looked at Roach. “What do you think, girl? Should we share a fire with a stranger, tonight?” he asked quietly. Roach snorted and bumped her head against his chest. Chuckling, Geralt stroked her snout. “Come on, then.” Taking her reins in hand, Geralt led Roach in the direction of the small fire.

He kept his tread light, not wanting to make too much noise in case you startled easily. As he drew nearer and your scent filled his lungs he drank in the sight of you, hunched over the fire with your hands held out, the light it cast not enough to reveal him as he hung back at the edge of the trees, watching you. You had something warming over the fire -- stew, he thought, and rested a hand over his achingly empty stomach.

He shook his head, took a deep breath and for a few moments he just assessed you. Watched you stir the pot, humming with a smile on your face, supposedly carefree despite the chill in the air and the gathering darkness, and all the trouble that came with it. He breathed in deep, deliberately kicked up a bit of snow so it made a quiet  _ whump  _ sound as he stepped forward, alerting you to his presence as he stepped forward just enough for human eyes to dimly make him out in the firelight.

“It’s not safe to be traveling alone,” he spoke quietly. He kept his posture and tone neutral, hands loose at his sides so you could see he held no weapons, staying upright so he didn’t look ready to strike.  _ Non-threatening, not looking for trouble. _

The initial burst of bitter alarm that had surged through your scent at his approach eased, still cautious but tempered by gentle curiosity and empathy.

“Look who’s talking,” you replied with a tentative smile, and Geralt felt his shoulders drop minutely, relaxing. It looked like he might be welcome after all.

“I’m not alone,” he told you, tugging gently on Roach’s reins so she stepped forward with a nicker. He watched your eyes light up as you slowly came to your feet, stepping around the fire to approach with one hand held out.

“Hello, beautiful,” you said softly, pausing about a foot away and just watching Roach with a small smile. Roach flicked her ears, tossed her head and pawed at the ground and generally expressed her displeasure about all this snow and cold. She peered at you and snorted through her nose and you just kept smiling, wiggling your fingers a bit. Geralt waited, one hand on the side of Roach’s neck.

Finally, with a sigh of the deeply put-upon, Roach stretched her head forward just enough to touch her muzzle to your fingertips before tossing her head with another snort. You laughed delightedly.

“Her name is Roach,” Geralt told you.

“Nice to meet you, Roach,” you spoke softly. “I’m Y/N. And you are?” Your eyes flicked to his, and he wondered at the small smile that you offered.

“Geralt, of Rivia.”

“Nice to meet you as well. My fire is small, but would you and Roach like to share it?”

Geralt nodded and took Roach’s saddle bags off, setting them safely aside and giving her a few reassuring pats and rubs before joining you at the fireside, dusting some snow off of the log across from you before settling on it. He watched the small flames flicker before holding his hand out in the sign for Igni. The flames flickered and sputtered before doubling, flaring up with sudden revitalized energy and burning twice as bright and hot.

You fell back with a yelp, looking at him with wide eyes, and Geralt cursed at his misstep--

“That was amazing,” you breathed, and it wasn’t terror widening your eyes and making your heart race, he realized, it was wonder. “How did you do that?”

“I’m a Witcher,” Geralt muttered, eyes shifting away from yours. “It was just a small burst of Igni, hardly special.” You sat forward again and he could sense your innocent fascination, like a child watching a mage do petty parlor tricks. He stifled the urge to roll his eyes, secretly relieved he hadn’t frightened you by showing off, that you weren’t immediately chasing him off.

“A witcher? I thought those were stories my father made up.” Geralt glanced up with a frown, because it was….odd. Most people, when they spoke of the stories told of witchers, were referring to the ones about how witchers don’t feel, how they’re heartless monsters. But you… “He told me they were super-human, monster-hunters that protected us from what lurks in the night. Is that true?”

Geralt shifted his weight uncomfortably, unaccustomed to the...admiration shining in your eyes, unsure how to react. “I hunt monsters,” he confirmed.

“That’s incredibly brave of you,” you enthused and Geralt snorted.

“It’s what witchers do. That’s like praising a cat for hunting mice, or a butcher for preparing meats.”

You tilted your head, studying him curiously. Geralt quelled the urge to squirm under your scrutiny, meeting your gaze steadily and staying perfectly still. “When my cat does a particularly good job, I give her treats and pets as a reward. If the butcher gives me a particularly fine cut, I give him some extra coin as gratitude.” You smiled serenely, sweet and open. “When a job is well done, praise and rewards are due, don’t you think?”

Geralt blinked at you, caught off-guard. He squinted at you, trying to discern if you were mocking him, but there was no sarcasm or scorn in your expression, only warmth and kindness. It was...puzzling and the silence stretched as he continued to stare at you, head tilted slightly to one side.

“Where are you headed?” he finally asked to break the silence.

“To visit a friend in the next town,” you replied. “She lost her husband to the war, but not before he left her with child. She needs more support so I’m going to be staying with her for a while.”

“That’s a few days’ walk from here,” Geralt frowned.

You smiled ruefully. “I’m aware, but I don’t own a horse. I’ll make do.”

“Traveling alone in winter? That doesn’t seem wise.”

You looked up at him from under your lashes as you handed him a bowl of stew. “Perhaps you should accompany me, then. Unless your path is taking you in a different direction?”

Geralt paused, surprised by the invitation. Moreso by your fingers brushing against his as you gave him the bowl, your scent lingering sweet and welcoming on his skin as he drew away.

“My path is….flexible,” he hedged. “I suppose we could share the road.”

* * *

The cold didn’t seem so biting with your laugh in his ears, your food in his belly, and your scent dancing on his tongue with every breath he drew. It made the time pass by quickly, and he found he didn’t mind letting you sit behind him on Roach.

You asked him many questions, but you always seemed to sense when he needed quiet and didn’t pry. Geralt grew to appreciate the ease of your company, and the days slipped by with ease until the village began to grow on the horizon.

“We’re here already?” you perked up, a smile lighting your face.

Something in Geralt’s stomach churned, but he nodded. “Almost at our destination.”

You smiled brightly and he tried not to stiffen as your small hand rested on his waist, warmth bleeding through his armor and making his skin tingle. “It’s been an honor and a pleasure sharing your company, Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt snorted quietly. “Right.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he sighed. “Where would you like me to take you before we part ways?” The words left a bitter taste on his tongue, exacerbated by the sharp disappointment threading through your scent. He twisted to look at you, but you were now avoiding his gaze.

“The market should suffice, thank you,” you murmured.

He studied you with a frown for a long moment before shaking his head, facing forward and digging his heels into Roach’s side, urging her to go faster. Better to get this over with sooner than prolong the torture of having to say goodbye.

When he rode into the market many stared at him and he kept his face stony as you slid off of Roach behind him, collecting your things that had been stowed in her saddlebags that morning.

“I suppose...this is it?” you said quietly, looking up at Geralt.

He slid his gaze away from yours, grunting. “Suppose so.”

He wished he hadn’t heard your quiet sigh, damn his heightened senses. “Then it’s been a pleasure. I bid you well on your journey.” One last squeeze of your hand on his knee before you stepped away, turning and walking away from him. Geralt kept his eyes on your back, feeling restless, something itching under his skin.

You were already several steps away when Geralt found your coin purse nestled in his saddlebag, but it was easy for him to track your scent through the crowd and grab onto you.

“You left this behind,” he said gruffly, holding your upper arm in one hand and proffering the coin purse with the other.

You looked down at where his hand gripped your arm, and then up into his eyes - and smiled. It seemed to take him aback, his hand dropping from you as though burned.

“What makes you think it was an accident, dear witcher?” you asked, making no move to reach for the pouch.

Amber eyes narrowed to slits as he gazed down at you, shifting his weight so he was no longer looming over you without actually moving away. “Why would you--?”

“Because you deserve it,” you interrupted calmly. He blinked at you and tilted his head to one side, regarding you as you continued. “You kept my fire lit when I was barely able to keep it going, safeguarded me from monsters that may have lurked in the woods, and traveling on Roach got me to the village far quicker than I would have managed traveling alone on foot. And,” you grinned up at him, “you provided fine company on an otherwise lonely night. Keep the coin.” You patted his arm before turning to continue on your way through the market.

“I don’t need it--”

“Well I won’t be taking it back,” you spoke over your shoulder without missing a beat.

“You’re ridiculous,” he called exasperatedly. You paused and looked back at him.

“Maybe so. If it’s so important to you, put that coin to use and share another meal with me at the inn,” you offered.

He blinked at you askance at the request. “Why are you….doing this?” He seemed to struggle articulating the question, and it saddened you that he was so baffled by being treated with friendliness.

“I think you’re kind, and I enjoy your company. So are we going to eat or not?” You raised an eyebrow at him, softening it with a gentle smile.

Geralt studied you in silence for a long moment as the market bustled around the two of you before nodding sharply. You smiled and trotted back to his side. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

The witcher couldn’t seem to stop staring at you, as though you were some rare and remarkable creature as you led him through the village to the inn. You let him be in charge of choosing food and drinks while you sought out a place to sit, happy to find a booth in the corner by the window. You slid into one of the seats and waited, watching Geralt’s stilted interaction with the innkeeper. She seemed a trifle nervous, but she accepted his coin readily enough so it didn’t seem she was causing any trouble, you noted with relief.

Geralt joined you with a mug of ale in each hand, sliding one over to you. You picked it up and clinked it against his in a toast. He raised an eyebrow at you in question and you smiled brightly. “Cheers to good company and a blessed spring,” you declared.

Honey eyes locked onto you, warm and inquisitive. “Blessed indeed,” Geralt muttered. You felt warmth surge through you, chasing away the lingering chill of the winter air with a promise of springtime.

The two of you toasted and drank, and at the end of the night he asked if you would mind some company on the walk home. Stomach fluttering, you smiled up into liquid amber eyes as you rested a hand on his arm. “I wouldn’t mind one bit.”

So together, the two of you once more ventured into the chilled evening air, the promise of spring in every quiet chuckle and warm glance shared between you, chasing away the last lingering chills of winter.

**Author's Note:**

> Can also be found on my Tumblr @riviawitch3r :)


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